


Bramblekit's Silence

by mocat (TarryTheTarMonster)



Series: Thunderclan and Copperstar's family [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Cats, Conspiracy, Dreams and Nightmares, Evil, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kits, Medicine Cats (Warriors), Murder, RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), Shipping my own characters, Temporary Amnesia, ThunderClan (Warriors), Thunderclan-freeform, Warrior Cats, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarryTheTarMonster/pseuds/mocat
Summary: “Have you remembered anything?” Shredpelt’s gaze was on him, hopefully shining in the blackness.“Nothing. Only the she-cat.”-.-Bramblekit could never remember what life was like before the 'incident.' He couldn't remember why the world was so bright, why he waited every night for something, something he didn't know the name. All he does know is that there's a reason to it, a reason to everything that goes on in ThunderClan.One memory is his only hope to uncovering the truth.
Series: Thunderclan and Copperstar's family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027354
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

An unsettling silence fell over the camp, as it always was at night. Inside the dens the faint rumble of snores seemed to be trapped inside the walls of leaf and bramble, hiding away from the black silence of night.

The only thing that moved was the body of a young kit, breathing silent as he watched the moon across the camp, bathing the world in silver alien light. His eyes were amber spots in the shadows, flickering in the blades of grass as they danced to the rhythm of the wind. It gave a sense of secrecy to the cat, his frozen form like a shadow among shadows, the light from his eyes the only thing betraying him. His thick fluffy tail was curled around his paws, never betraying everything like the rest of his body. He, like the rest, never moved, only his fur swayed in the black. Nothing gave him away, except the eyes. Always the eyes.

He did this every night. Away from his clan mates, away from the rustling into the padded silence of darkness. Every night his eyes watched the moon until it reached moon high, and every night he went inside with disappointment. He couldn’t remember when he started, all he could remember was him waiting for something to happen. He couldn’t remember what, all he knew was that he had to wait outside for something, someone. And he knew that every night he would turn up nothing.

Night was comforting for the kit. There was no one to yell at him, there was no one to cry, no one to be dragged in bleeding with blood from a skirmish. No one to tell him to  _ stop. _ He desperately wanted to stop, go back to what was before, but he couldn’t remember what that was, so he didn’t. He had nothing of his past, nothing before the incident, except for one thing. He let himself fall into a memory, the cool outside replaced with pitch black. The stems brushing at his sides replaced with the soft fur of a cat, a cat he knew by heart but seemed so far away.

It was burned into his memory, the scent of lilacs filling through his nose that filled him with such warmth that he felt content,  _ happy, _ something he seemed to only find in this memory. A tongue lapped at his head cleaning him of dirt, then the smell faded, the fur melting into stems and the twilight replaced with the light of moon-high that shone above the kit. He sighed, getting onto his paws and headed inside, feeling a wave of sadness waft over him.

Though he didn’t know why.

-

Bramblekit felt a patch of warm, glossy sunlight egnite the short fur on his nose, rousing him from his sleep. He blinked, stretching his paws to the walls of the den to later get up on them. The den was empty, as it usually was when Bramblekit woke up, the dappled sunlight proving patterns of light to see his way through the den. He could hear the murmur of life from outside, but the silence of the warmly lit nursery basked Bramblekit with a strange contentment that made him linger for a while longer.

Bramblekit blinked as he stuck his head outside the den, the harsh summer light blinding him, though he bravely took steps forward. He stopped, letting the yellow haze slowly melt away, letting him recognize the camp and the cats that inhabited it once more.

How he hated the looks of pity.

They were everywhere, the warriors, the apprentices, the elders. How the cats fell silent as he walked past. How the cats whispered behind him. He didn’t know why, all he had ever known were the whispers, the stares. He was used to it, expected it, and he hated it. It was a routine.

Bramblekit ducked between the stems of the grasses, emerging into a cave that smelled of herbs and blood. But he was unaffected by the smell, stepped forward into the coolness of stone and asking the same question every day.

“Is father here?” The ripped up pelt looked up from its post, his pale yellow eyes shining in the half light.

“He just left.” That was the reply, it was always the reply. He always came here, and by the time Bramblekit arrived he was always gone. He sometimes couldn’t remember his pelt, he’d know it was a flame orange but what color were the stripes, the eyes? He’d rarely hear the sound of his voice, as he was always out with his duties.

Bramblekit had always dreamed of a day with his father, playing moss ball or even just sharing a piece of prey. But that never happened, he woke to find the nest empty and he went to bed to see a pale orange shape in the moss, resembling a hill more than a cat.

“Have you remembered anything?” Shredpelt’s gaze was on him, hopefully shining in the blackness.

“Nothing. Only the she-cat.” Shredpelt sighed, nudging a pile of dry leaves to Bramblekit’s paws.

“Take this to the sick den, please.” Bramblekit rolled the leaves up, padding out of the den and into the blinding light. He let himself get adjusted to the harshness, weaving his way through the stems of the footpath to the secluded den among some brambles. He could hear the faint groaning of the cats from beyond the sheave, and with a breath he allowed himself to enter.

Bramblekit visited the medicine cat regularly, and each time he was asked if he could remember anything, and each time he had said no. Then he’d be asked to take herbs to the sick den, and he would drop them just by the entrance where the bloodied paws of wounded cats would drag the herbs in, fighting for them like rats. Bramblekit hated it, he didn’t understand why the cats were kept here. He could hear the starving groans from the den, the retching of the cats behind the thorns, the sounds of claws ripping fur. Bramblekit could have gagged at the smell, the smell of pus, blood, death and the rotting of those who had spent their final days in that cage.

He backed out of the den, shaking his head free of the gurgled pleads for food, for water. He couldn’t tell how many cats, whose paws belonged to who and whose voice wailed for more. He trudged along the path, taking deep breaths through his nose to try to rid himself of the haunting smell that seemed to terrorize his dreams.

“Move, kit!” Bramblekit darted to the side, hiding among some trees of grass as he watched the patrol flood by. Three cats held up a brown tabby, it’s short fur blackened with sickening blood that threatened to make Bramblekit retch. He could see the faint trickle of red seep from a wound on the back of its neck, and it created a path of crimson that sparkled in the sun. As they passed, the tabby’s eyes lolled open, its pupils settling on Bramblekit. He blinked, his jaw going slack as if he was about to say something, then eyes closing again as they walked past. The four disappeared into the den, and only three returned.

If you were attacked by ShadowClan, you never survived.

They were vicious cats, their minds clouded with rage who attacked any cat near their territory alone. Their bite was hard enough to kill, and they were so quick that by the time the rest of the cats came, the cat would be dead or dying. Those who lived were taken to the sick den, as cats who had lived grew ruthless just like ShadowClan and would attack themselves. That was the story, and those who were brought in by patrols never left.

Bramblekit sighed softly, following the patrol back down into the camp. The camp belonged to his clan, ThunderClan, and if ShadowClan got their hands on their camp they’d all be dead, or savage. Which was why they had to isolate those who were in attacks. But Bramblekit still hated it, and he wished there was a different way. But that was the will of the leader, and therefore he must follow it.

He stalked among the grass, his pelt brushing the stuff that laced the walls of the camp like vines. His amber eyes followed the movements of the cats, trying to train himself to see through the bright fog, to make out the distant shapes he could hear from the blurriness like it was a mirage. But there was nothing, only the quivering silhouettes like the trees he was told laid beyond that haze.

Bramblekit sucked in a breath through his nose, settling down among the stems to watch a sour-cream tom scamper from behind a den. He disappeared into the blinding light, the other cats a haze in his mind as they continued their daily affairs. His gaze drifted over them as they chattered with each other, letting his thoughts run silent as he watched them.

He wished father would come home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bramblekit has a new dream, one that poses more questions.

Oh God, how he  _ hated _ noon.

The sun was so bright, casting a blinding yellow on the ground that made it seem like Bramblekit and the grassy stems around him an island in a dandelion sea. His eyes watered if he kept them open, and Bramblekit certainly didn’t want his clanmates to think he was crying when, truly, the light that captured the world as he knew it was trying to take his eyes next. So he kept him closed, deciding to rely on his hearing instead. And with the gift his ears had given him, he was able to imagine so much more than he could see in the yellow haze of the day.

He could just imagine the smaller kits in a constant tussle with each other, rolling across the ground in a tumbleweed of paws and fur as they screeched while they played. He could see the image of the mothers of those kits, basking in the sun with a small smile on their faces as they enjoyed what little peace and quiet they've been blessed with. He could imagine the elders sitting quietly by the den, small little specks of cotton floating past them as they accounted on the days when they were just as carefree as the little kits a few tail-lengths away. He could imagine the warriors coming in from patrols, their jaws laden with warm prey, their eyes glowing with the yellow light but also with the pride that they had provided for those who couldn’t. He could imagine all this, only with the sounds and smells of everything around him.

But everytime he opened his eyes he was reminded that it was only his imagination that supplied these daydreams. That to him, his day-light world was just a place of yellow that took his sight only to replace it at night. He only knew pelts by their silvery moon-light counterparts, he knew eyes by the faded light of the stars, and he knew it was a cat not by mirage-like silhouette but by the smell he had grown all too familiar with.

It was this fundamental principle that surprised Bramblekit when he opened his eyes to a forest.

He could hear the faint birds chittering in the background, their songs adding to the mystical feel of the forest. The branches stretched overhead in a roof of green leaves, in which the canopy let small patches of light filter through to the floor. The light was soft, gentle, as if it wouldn’t even dare to hurt him. Leaf litter tickled his paws, summer-spring smells filled the clearing with the scent of dying flowers and blooming leaves. But, despite the sweetness of the forest, dark still tinged the edges of the clearing he stood in, the trunks of the trees fading into the black background.

Bramblekit took a quiet step forward, his sap-colored eyes filled with wonder. The tips of his ears brushed the stream of light, his fur illuminated as if it was the real source of the soft yellow light. He stepped into the clearing, his nose twitching and his tail still as he smelt a smell so familiar yet so far away. Then, he realised it was lilac that bloomed in his mouth, his veins pumping with so much warmth he flinched. With a newfound determination he padded forward, his paws sinking in the leaves, and his eyes trained on a bush that seemed to radiate that smell.

But instead, his head bumped into something hard. Bramblekit stumbled back, blinking rapidly as he tried to shake himself of the building pain in his head.

The forest was gone, replaced with the wall of the camp and a yellow haze surrounding him on all sides. His eyes watered, fear spiked in his chest as he pressed himself against the one thing that seemed to exist with wide eyes. When he felt jaws sink into his scuff he sighed, closing his eyes and letting the mystery cat take him away. When the light behind his eyelids faded, he opened them to see Shredpelt’s paws below his own. He let the medicine cat drop him to his feet, then spun around to stare at those pale yellow eyes looking at him in hope.

Or was it something else?

“Did you remember anything?” Those yellow eyes shone, like the light spilling in from outside. They were eager like his voice, but that eagerness was cold. As if they were a cheat, as if he was a cheat, and they held more than he let on.

Bramblekit looked at the yellow eyes and replied, “No, only the she-cat.”

-

Amber harvest moons shone from the darkness, eclipsed by an iris that was wide in the shadowing darkness. Silvery scales made up the ground in the moonlight, the faint buzzing of cicadas played the moonlit serenade for the small kit curled in the black.

Bramblekit’s nose twitched, his amber eyes were wide as he stared intently at the ferns that supplied the entrance to the camp. The trees above creaked in the small breeze, the dancing shadows soaring over him in a ballad of epic proportions. But he paid no attention to the show that the night played for him, his attention was solely on the softly crafted ferns that was the door to the outside world. His eyelids drooped slightly as fatigue overwhelmed his senses.  _ I guess if I just rested my eyes.. _

As he opened them again, the forest rose around him.

He lifted his head in a snap, scrambling to his paws as fast as he could. Once he was balanced, he was able to properly assess that yes, this  _ was  _ the same place. The trees stretched tall above him, the faint streams of golden light created trunks of their own, and that same welcoming lilac scent flooded around him like a tidal wave. Just like before, he stepped forward, following the enticing smell of purple flowers that led him forward like instinct.

But, unlike before, he didn’t run into the camp wall.

Instead, he stepped through the bushes into another clearing, this one having a trail that winded through the trees like a stream of dirt and rocks. The leaf litter now emerged into coarse grass that tickled his paw-pads, somehow making him sneeze. His amber eyes glittered, staring into the nothingness that shrouded the trail. And somewhere from the gloom came a heavenly voice, a voice that sounded soft and calm like the petals of lilacs.

_ “Hurry up Bramblekit!” _

His eyes brightened, he felt his lips curl into a smile and his tail danced behind him in a frenzy. He bunched up his muscles, leaning low, ready to leap onto that trail and catch up with whoever was calling him. He readied his paws, and-

“Hey, it’s time to wake up.”

Bramblekit froze, his ears back with confusion. He felt himself blink, he felt his eyes close fully before he was greeted with the early-morning haze and pale eyes on a shredded face.

-

“Weaselheart, you have proven your courage and bravery, and I hope you will pass this onto Milkpaw.”

Bramblekit listened with envy, his nose buried into the fur of his white paws. The yellow jaws of light closed in on him, his eyes watering as he heard the apprentice ceremony take place.

“Milkpaw! Milkpaw! Milkpaw!”

The chants of his clanmates echoed around him, dancing in circles and taunting him why he wasn’t up there with the newly named apprentice, while he would never be a real cat, a real warrior. 

_ He was just the maggot of Thunderclan. _

He looked up, seeing the faint line of milk that gave him the new apprentice’s paws. And with a flick of fury and hate, he swiped the milky paw from under that cat, reveling in the sound of him tumbling to the yellow ground.

Bramblekit placed his head on his paws again, staring blankly into the yellow haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out the set publication thing, now this story will publish every wednesday and sunday

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story adapted from the warriors forums, hope you all enjoy! Will be uploading once a week.


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